


Shut Up

by bondboy68



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bottom Bucky, M/M, WWII era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 09:06:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1504667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bondboy68/pseuds/bondboy68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they were kids, Bucky and Steve shared a bed every time one slept over at the other's house. During the war, when they shared a bed, it was for a completely different reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shut Up

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [闭嘴](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2671301) by [joankindom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/joankindom/pseuds/joankindom)



> This was going to be PWP and then feelings happened. Sorry about the downer ending...

The first night is right after Steve broke Bucky and the rest of the out of the HYDRA base. They had to stop to make camp on the way back to the line. The two of them found a piece of ground that wasn’t too hard and spent time catching up. Bucky wanted to know everything, all about basic training and being selected and getting the super soldier serum. He was genuinely happy for Steve. They were both even more happy to see each other alive. Steve was halfway through telling him about his stint in show business when he realized Bucky had fallen asleep. He didn’t know what he went through as a POW, but even in sleep Bucky didn’t look relaxed. Steve watched him sleep until he dropped off himself, right next to his best friend on the cold ground, having found each other against all odds in the middle of Germany. 

The second night they were sharing a barracks with a hundred other men. They were overcrowded at the moment, hosting so many different soldiers from so many different platoons and armies. Steve was stretched out in a cot, a paperback in hand, when Bucky appeared in just his underwear and short sleeves. 

“Scoot, Rogers.” Automatically, he did and Bucky settled next to him in the narrow space. “Not enough beds,” he explained. 

“Well, Buck, I can just sleep on the floor—”

“Shut up Rogers.” Bucky rolled onto his side, back to Steve. “Just get some sleep and try not to snore.” Steve smiled, set aside his book, and happily shared the tiny cot with Bucky, each other’s body warmth much appreciated in the middle of the chilly night and causing them to huddle closer. Nobody thinks anything about it, because half the guys are sharing their cots. 

The third night is right after Bucky says yes to going back over the line with Steve. They stay at the bar late, watching their new team get drunk and sing, and at the same time decided they were tired. Steve, thanks to his new position, had been given a private room while they were preparing. He invited Bucky up for a last chat before turning in, and on the way they passed Howard in the hall. 

His arm around a bubbly girl with blond curls, he gave them a wink and a smile as he disappeared into his own room. 

“Who is that guy again?” Bucky asked, sitting down on Steve’s bed. 

“Howard Stark. You’ve seen him before. The expo, remember?”

“Oh, yeah… And what’s he doing here?”

Steve started to pull off his uniform, hanging it up carefully. “Well, he helped with the super soldier program. And he’s been contracted by the army for some other things, I guess. He’s going to be outfitting us for missions.” 

Bucky nodded, leaning back on his elbows. Steve watched him as he hung up his shirt, amusing. “You can’t sleep here, Buck.”

“Says who?”

“Says me. And you have that look in your eye that says you’re thinking about it.”

“What look?” Steve turned away, pulling off the rest of his clothes and hanging them in the closet. 

“That look you get when you’re drunk and tired that says you’re about to drop wherever you are and not more for eight hours. You don’t have that many looks, Buck. I know them all.” 

“Yeah? Are you gonna be the one to kick me out?” 

When he turns around, Bucky is already stretched out on the bed, hands behind his head and looking rather comfortable. He give Steve a challenging smirk. 

Steve tries to sound as serious as possible. “Get out of my bed, Buck.” 

“Never heard that one before. Sorry, who was it that nursed your screwy ass through pneumonia? Twice?” 

Steve tries to hold back a smile, crossing the room to him. “Bucky. It’s my bed.” 

“Yeah? Well I’m comfortable.” Bucky rolled onto his side with a loud yawn. When his eyes reopened, Steve’s face was inches from his own. 

“Bucky—”

“Oh shut it and get in bed, Rogers.” 

The fourth night is right after that. 

It had been a long day, going over weapons and shields and his new uniform with Howard. It was late when he was finally done with it all and met Bucky for a late dinner. They talked about tactics and about what they would do if they were abroad for fun and there wasn’t a war going on and about the baseball games they would catch up on once they got back. 

Once again, they ended up in Steve’s room because, according to Bucky, Dum Dum snored loud enough to wake the dead. 

“Something weird happened today,” Steve started while he was hanging up his clothes. 

“Weirder than that guy taking off his face?”

“Not that weird.”

“Thank god, I can’t handle another one like that.” Bucky lounged on the bed, watching him. “Well, what happened.” 

Steve let out a breath. “A girl kissed me.” 

That threw Bucky off guard. “What?” 

“She said that the women of America owe me their thanks and then she kissed me.” When Bucky just stared, he continued. “And Peggy saw us, and I think she’d mad. Howard said—”

“Whoa, do me a favor, don’t take any advice about dames from that guy. Ok? But really you have TWO girls after you?” 

Steve blushed. “Well I would really say they’re after me…”

Bucky sat up. “Unbelievable. How’d she kiss you?”

“I don’t know… she sort pulled me aside and grabbed my tie…”

“And?”

“And I don’t know, Buck! It seems kind of rude to talk about.” 

“Did she put her tongue in your mouth?”

“Bucky!”

“Did you put your tongue in her mouth?”

Steve went to hit the lights. “I would have never told you if I thought you’d ask so many questions.” As he crossed to the bed, Bucky stood to meet him. 

“Ok, show me.”

“Show you? Show you what?”

“Show me how she kissed you.” 

Steve couldn’t believe he was serious. “How? Why?”

“Because I want to know. I’m your best friend, it is my duty to make sure you’re kissing right.”

“I’m kissing right.” Even in the dim light, he could recognize Bucky’s expression. “I am! How would you know I wasn’t.”

“I will know once you shut up and just show me how she kissed you.”

Steve could tell he wasn’t going to let it go. Sometimes Bucky took hold of odd things and just gripped them tight and it was best to just indulge him. So he stepped forward and pressed his lips against the other man’s. Bucky’s lips were much softer than he’d expected. And he smelled… not good in the girl sense of perfume and flowers, but good in a clean and familiar way. Before he pulled away, Steve remembered what he was supposed to be doing this food and swiped his tongue across Bucky’s lip. He tasted like the whiskey he’d had after dinner.

Steve stepped away, cheeks red and stomach fluttering, trying to think of a reason why he’d enjoyed kissing his best friend so much. 

“So it was like that?” Bucky asked, breaking the silence. 

“Yeah. Pretty much.” 

Bucky shrugged in his noncommittal way. “It’s alright.”

“Huh? I’m a good kisser!”

“You’re decent, Rogers. Which isn’t bad. Bad kissing, that’s hard to break away from. But I wouldn’t say you’re good.”

Now Steve was just annoyed. “Alright, we’re doing it again. I am good.”

“You’re really not.”

Steve leaned in and kissed him again. This time he did more than just press their lips together. He thought of the blond girl and how she’d surprised him with the flick of her tongue. Then he thought about Bucky and his surprisingly soft lips, taste of whiskey clinging to them. He moved his lips against the other’s and lifted a hand to hold his jaw. Bucky’s jaw was strong and slightly rough from missing a shave or two. He was kissing Steve back, and when their tongues were thrown into the mix, brushing against each other, something ignited inside Steve’s belly.

It was like firecrackers, not at all what he’d felt when he’d been kissed earlier that day. This was hot and intense and he wanted more. He pressed against Bucky, flush from shoulder to knee, the hand not on his cheek holding his hip. Their tongues met boldly, taking turns sweeping through each other’s mouths. Bucky’s hands were on his shoulders, fingers pressing hard into his skin. 

When they broke away, they were both breathless and panting, lips swollen and wet. 

“See,” Steve panted smugly. “Told you I was good.” 

“Yeah,” Bucky responded, hands still clinging to his shoulders. “Not so bad… Could still be better.”

It’s all Steve needs to kiss him again and this time he pushed Bucky back onto the bed and crawled over him. 

Neither of them knew why it was happening, why it had suddenly become so urgent that they feel skin on skin, hands roaming and lips mouthing at hot necks and chests. Soon they were rutting against each other in their underwear, Steve’s mouth on Bucky’s neck, leaving behind a dark bruise while the other panted and failed to hold in needy moans, his fingers tugging at Steve’s hair. It couldn’t be explained but it somehow made perfect sense as they panted against each other’s mouths, hips moving erratically as they sought for a release they didn’t even need until Bucky challenged Steve to kiss him in the first place. They fell apart together, as the same time, arms wrapped around tight and faces pressed into shoulders to hide moans. And in the morning they woke up still holding each other, faces inches apart. And suddenly everything had changed. 

The fifth time is days later. It was an awkward few days between, where they couldn’t get a moment alone, but that something was still there. An electric charge between them. All Steve could think about was getting Bucky pinned under him again, tasting his mouth, hearing him fall apart. But with missions to start and HYDRA to take down, there was just no time. 

And when there was time, they didn't speak. There’s nothing to talk about, just a mutual understanding when they finally find themselves alone in a ramshackle tent. The rest of the Howling Commandos, as they’d chosen to be called, were sleeping in similar tents around them. 

Bucky was half sitting-up, propped up on his elbows, his eyes following Steve’s every moment while the other man pulled off his uniform. Afterward he crawled over Bucky. There was a long moment when they just looked at each other, the only sounds their quiet breathing, the rustling of leaves, and the remnants of the fire outside. Bucky was the first to break the moment, surging forward to meet Steve’s lips. 

They had to remain quiet, conscious of every noise, even the sharp intake of breath from Bucky when Steve’s mouth traced patterns down his chest. But at least they could take their time, partially because they wanted it to last, and partially to keep their noise level in check. 

In the morning they woke up still entwined in each other but still didn’t say anything. It seemed, at the time, there was nothing to be said. 

After that, it became a pattern. The next dozen times were stolen moments, reeling off the high of a mission accomplished. If anybody noticed, they said nothing. Though honestly, how could they not have noticed? Especially the first time Steve realized he had absolutely no gag reflex and showed Bucky by deep throating his cock until Bucky was screaming as he came like a freight train. Or the first time they decided hands and mouths weren’t enough. 

It was Bucky’s idea and Steve decided not to question that already knew exactly how to open himself up. Steve watched, mouth agape, while Bucky hovered over him, two fingers working inside him while his free hand rested on Steve’s chest. Eventually, the blond realized that he was having a hard time getting the angel he needed and pulled Bucky’s hand away to help. He was slow and carful as he worked his own thicker fingers inside the man, all the time asking ‘Is this ok?’ ‘Does that feel alright?’ ‘Am I hurting you?’

Finally Bucky, face flushed and panted, reached down to grab Steve’s cock. “Come on, Rogers, that’s as good as it’s gonna get, let’s just do it already.” Steve was nervous, and if Bucky was he was doing a good job to hide it (he was but he didn’t admit until centuries later). Steve held onto Bucky’s hips, helping to support him while the other took to the lead, slowly sinking down, stopping every inch and breathing heavily. 

“You’re big, you know that?”

“We don’t have to—”

“Shut up, Captain, I’m trying to concentrate.” 

Steve thought he would explode from holding still while he waited until finally Bucky had taken his entire length. They both stared at each other, as if amazing it had actually happened. 

Steve ran his hands up and down Bucky’s thighs. “How does it feel?” 

“A bit strange. But not bad.” He gave an experimental roll of his hips that made Steve’s back arch and his fingers press hard into the other’s legs. Above him, Bucky grinned. “You like that, Captain Rogers?” He moved his hips again, a slow steady pace of shallow thrusts up and down on Steve’s cock. 

For Steve, it was nothing like he’d ever experienced. It felt amazing and all he wanted was a way to make Bucky feel that good, too. Obviously doing this wasn’t going to work if only he was getting pleasure out of it. But then Bucky shifted, catching a different angel, and suddenly he was gasping and digging his nails into Steve’s chest. 

“What? What’s wrong? Buck?” Bucky moved again and let out a curse. 

“Fuck…. right there, that’s feels…”

“Bucky?”

“I need you to move Steve.”

“What?”

“Fuck me, Rogers!”

Steve gave a careful thrust up and Bucky’s responding moan nearly made him reach climax immediately. So Steve did it again. Whatever he was doing was was making Bucky fall to pieces, but it was hard to get accurate thrusts against that spot with the other man writhing on top of him. So Steve flipped them over, pinning Bucky under him. The dark haired man gasped, running his hands up Steve’s arms. 

“Damn, you’re strong.” 

Steve gave a slow trust and was rewarded by a gasp and Bucky throwing back his head, inviting the blond to kiss up his throat. “Yeah, you like that?” 

“Shit, Rogers, doing this better not be turning me into a dame or something.”

Steve snorted against his neck. “Don’t be ridiculous, Buck.” He thrust again, and this angle was so much better because he could control exactly how hard and where to thrust and soon he had Bucky moaning and clawing down his back, his legs wrapped around Steve’s waist. 

Steve had never seen him like this before, begging and panting and so obviously enjoying himself that Steve gave him everything he asked for, would have given him the moon if Bucky had gasped out a desire for it. He felt Bucky clenching tightly around him, his legs shaking, and he reached between them to wrap his fingers around the other’s neglected cock that had grown rock hard when he wasn’t looking. Steve matched his trusts to strokes of Bucky’s cock and when he came it was harder than ever before. He clenched even tighter around Steve, who lost himself thrust in hard and came buried deep inside the other. 

“Holy fucking shit,” Bucky managed after his heart rate was halfway back to normal. “We’re doing that again.”

“Next time, we can—”

“Shut up, Steve, I know what you’re about to say. We’re doing that again, exactly the same.”

Steve couldn’t help put be proud as he placed kisses down Bucky’s neck, sweat cooling against his skin. “That good?” 

Bucky rolled into him, wrapping his arms around Steve and huddling in close for warmth. “Shut up and go to sleep.” 

The next morning at breakfast everybody kept their head down and their eyes averted. Except for Dernier, who gave them both enthusiastic pats on the back, babbling something in French that Jones refused to translate or even acknowledge. (Somebody did bug him about some of it later and all he would say was “I don’t know what that means. I don’t want to know what that means.”) After that Steve and Bucky decided they should set up their tent a bit further away. 

Bucky was also sore as hell, couldn’t even sit without flinching for a day. For the sake of safety and comfort, they starting using that as a celebration of mission well done, and in-between take turns using hands and mouths, soft moans and whispered promises, seared into skin with hot kisses. 

They still hadn’t talked about it, though. Never discussed how they felt or what was happening between them. Steve held Bucky against this chest one night and thought about what he could say to express how he felt, but he couldn’t put it into words. On one hand, it was what had always been there. It had always been a given between them that they loved each other. They’d grown up like brothers, had been there for each other at every weak moment and high point. Nothing ever had to be said because they knew the other’s loyalty, he knew that Bucky’s loyalty to him mirrored his own loyalty to his best friend.

“Bucky?” he whispered, wondering if the other had fallen asleep already. Should he tell him that? Surely Bucky knew, and they’d never had to say it before. They’d said it in other ways. But still… “Buck, you awake?”

“Now I am.” 

“Sorry.” Steve pressed his lips to the top of Bucky’s head. “I was just thinking…”

“Yeah, I can smell your hair burning. I’m sure whatever it is can wait until morning.” 

“I just wanted to…”

“Shut up, Rogers.” He yawned and pressed closer to Steve. The blond smiled and closed his eyes and decided to let it go. Shut up seemed to be Bucky’s way of saying he felt the same way. 

Two days after that, Bucky fell.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy my work, feel free to send me a prompt or request.


End file.
